


cherry

by awildcur



Series: i love that johnny coco cruz [9]
Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29852415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awildcur/pseuds/awildcur
Relationships: Johnny "Coco" Cruz/Original Female Character(s), Johnny "Coco" Cruz/Reader
Series: i love that johnny coco cruz [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185551
Kudos: 2





	cherry

Coco rides into the scrapyard, with you sitting pretty on the back of his bike. You cling to him tightly, loving the feel of him close and the roar of the engine underneath you. He nods over at a man once he parks, calling him over.

“‘Sup, Chucky? Anyone here?”

“They’re all inside. Obispo, Taza and Hank are in Templo.”

Coco nods, taking off his helmet and gloves before rising from the bike. He helps you off, turning you to Chucky, and introduces you.

“Any friend of Johnny Coco Cruz is a friend of mine,” he says with a smile and holds out his hand. “I’m Chucky.”

You greet him and shake his hand, but look curiously at his fingers. Coco sees the question in your eyes and says, “No worries, ma. He’s harmless.”

With an arm thrown over your shoulder, he walks you up the steps to the clubhouse. You’re met with stares as you enter, every head turning to look at you.

You clear your throat. “Bathroom?” you ask Coco. “That helmet always kills my hair.”

“Over there,” he nods in the direction and let’s you slip away from his grasp. You can feel the eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you face the dingy bathroom mirror. The helmet Coco makes you wear always squashes your retro inspired hairstyles, ruining the hours you put in to make sure it looks perfect. You know safety is important – but so is your hair. At least you had the forethought to opt out of your beloved victory rolls this time, so the helmet hair isn’t _too_ bad. You fluff your bumper bang back up and adjust the bandana on your head, tying it securely in place. You take a step back and assess your whole look. Tight cigarette pants accentuate your curves and an off shoulder blouse draws attention to your cleavage. Red manicured nails trail over the low neckline, and you look like you’d be right at home next to the likes of Bettie Page or Jayne Mansfield.

After touching up your lipstick, you exit. You saunter over to Coco’s side, sidling up next to him. With the ever present cloud of smoke surrounding him, he puts his arm around you and introduces you to the new faces.

“That’s Boy Scout over there, Angel, Creep, Gilly, and Riz,” he points over to each one, and you lift your hand in a wave.

“Nice to meet you,” you tell them.

“You always dress like that? All 50s and shit?” one of them – _Angel?_ \- asks.

The pretty, beefy one next to him rolls his eyes. “Get some fuckin’ tact, man,” he says. Angel just shoves his shoulder and throws his arms up at him in defense. You remember Coco mentioning that two of them are actually siblings – you think you’ve figured out who.

“I do,” you answer. “For years now.”

“You got somethin’ to say about it?” Coco grills him, brows raised.

“Nah, it’s just… different. It’s cool, though.”

You laugh. “This one here sure likes it,” you say, bumping Coco with your hip.

“How’d you two meet?” Boy Scout asks.

“Umm,” you start as Coco masks his smirk with a cough. “He came into the tattoo shop I work at a few weeks ago.”

It’s not a complete lie. And with the amount of ink covering Coco’s body, no one would be surprised to hear that that’s how you met. But in reality, it was a drunken hook up after meeting at a bar. You were talking tattoos, and admiring the artwork he’d acquired with your fingers trailing across his skin. One thing led to another and to another, and you found yourself with your legs spread for him on the bathroom counter as his tongue circled your clit.

But you’re not about to tell them that.

“Yeah, he came in, asking about getting his tattoos touched up, and I guess we just… caught each other’s eye,” you turn to Coco and give a sly wink.

“You a tattoo artist?” Creeper asks, clearly intrigued. You notice he has an impressive gallery on himself as well.

“One day,” you declare. “Just answering phones for now.”

You fall into conversation about tattoos with Coco and Creeper, talking about what you all want to have done and the stories behind what you already have. The guy with weird fingers comes in and he’s followed by a young girl. Coco calls her over.

“Letty, c’mere. Got someone for you to meet.”

You’re anxious to meet Coco’s daughter but you put on a smile and greet her. She looks at you curiously, almost similar to how you looked at Chucky’s nubs.

“Have I seen you before? You look really familiar.”

“Maybe. I’ve done some modeling.”

“How the hell’d that fool pull a model?” you hear Angel huff behind you.

“Amateur, mostly,” you clarify. “Nothing too serious.”

Coco’s looking over your head behind you, eyes narrowing at his brothers. Gilly – the one who hasn’t spoken much despite barely being able to take his eyes off you- is holding his phone up to Angel’s face. “Dude, I fuckin’ knew it. That’s her!” he whispers loudly.

“Oh, shit.” Angel’s eyes widen as he looks at the screen.

Coco leans over and snatches the phone. “What are you babosos lookin’ at, huh?” He brings the phone up to his face. You and Letty both look over and you’re met with the image of yourself posing nude, the weeks and days of August underneath the photo.

“That’s where I know you from!” Letty exclaims. “They got this calendar up in the office!”

Gilly nudges Angel’s chest. “I told you, bro! I’d know those tits– I mean, that face anywhere.” He quickly tries to backtrack, but the slip up is obvious.

You can’t help but laugh, completely unashamed and proud of your modeling work. “Glad you liked it so much.”

Coco forcefully throws the phone back to Gilly, who quickly catches it with both hands against his chest. “Yeah, just like that shit _away_ from my girl. Got it, carnal?”

“Got it,” Gilly answers sheepishly.

A while later, Coco pulls you away, over to the side. Eyebrows raised at you, he says, “You ain’t tell me you was naked in those pictures.”

You bite your lip, leaning into him. “My bad,” you tease him. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Mhmm,” he hums. His hands grip at your waist, pulling you close to him. “So you gonna pose for me later, or what?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk on your face. “You a photographer now?”

Coco shrugs and licks his lips. “Could be. Wanna be my model?” he asks. “We can even make a movie, too.”

Your fingers thread in his hair, softly pulling his head back so you can kiss his jaw. “Just tell me where you want me.”


End file.
